


ground control (don't be afraid)

by sangiebyheart



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Injury, Love Confessions, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangiebyheart/pseuds/sangiebyheart
Summary: Maybe this is why Mingi feels guilt; because in the moments before - before Yunho sprained his ankle, and Mingi had to watch as Yunho’s eyes betrayed the fear and anguish he felt, yet he still tried to conceal them with an enduring smile - Mingi had seen how Yunho looked at him. With cameras rolling, it had beentoomuch, but Mingi had returned it, that same gaze, just as intense, because with Yunho, Mingi does not wish to be anyone but his true and honest self.Perhaps, there lay Mingi’s fatal mistake - nobody bats an eye when they share such moments in private, though Mingi had forgotten where he was, if only for a single second, and Yunho was the one who paid the price for it.
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 142





	ground control (don't be afraid)

**Author's Note:**

> title from [ground control by all time low](https://open.spotify.com/track/2fF3XzFS37084kw9tgNA5i?si=7ysB5betRG-g1LApYNXT6w) bc my titles always either come from all time low songs or the alice by heart musical
> 
> tw for an ankle injury, though nothing graphic, i promise.
> 
> i told ray this would be one scene only. didn't really work out that way LOL

Yunho is hurt, and Mingi is concerned.

On a schedule – a variety show of the annoying kind they are in the middle of filming for abroad – a particularly physical activity which did not involve the standard random dance, but required a lot of hyper-enthusiastic jumping instead, Yunho had gotten hurt.

Not badly.

Not badly, Mingi knows, just a sprained ankle, nothing that they are inexperienced with, nothing they never had to deal with before. It is no less scary, though, when you hear the popping and the yelping of surprise then pain so closely knit together, you can hardly tell one from the other.

Yunho had been rushed away to the doctor’s instantly, and returned with strict orders to rest until further notice. This, of course, meant he could no longer participate in the scheduled activities, not the ones they would be doing for the variety show, anyhow; though it was just his luck that it had only been day one out of a whole week of filming, and the other members could continue on without him.

And it should be fine, really, everything should be just peachy. They have had schedules with one person missing from the group, and they worked perfectly well, perfectly fine, because they knew this was temporary, they knew they would be back to normal very soon. Their management prioritizes health and well-being and forcing Yunho to go out and strain himself would most certainly backfire.

And they are not having a comeback, not yet – not for another six weeks, enough time for Yunho to rest and heal and recover – so Yunho does not need to worry about any stages for now, nor the disappointment and sadness from fans eager to see him at fanmeets. All he misses out on is a silly variety show, with silly MC’s and silly segments – the type most of their fans go crazy over, talk about for days and weeks afterwards, because they prompt funny interactions between the members, allow for an abundance of laughter and emotional outbreaks, a near perfect opportunity to explore group dynamics.

But.

The situation is not ideal, which is as obvious as it is familiar, they have been through this before, all eight of them, their managers and staff, but knowing what is to come does not make it any easier on the person with the injury. Especially miles and miles and an endlessly long plane ride away from home.

All of them do love traveling the world - it is a tiring adventure every time, but it is rewarding nonetheless. They are grateful, as exhausted as they are when they fall into their hotel beds late at night, for they never know when the opportunity might be taken away from them.

Since, for that to happen, all it takes - and this is what it boils down to, what makes it all so scary - is one misstep, physical, emotional, and anything they have worked for goes up in flames. They must treat their bodies well, they must heed their tongues in some conversations they do not wish to have. They must school themselves to toe the thin line between celebrity and private person, giving just enough of themselves to satisfy the crowds, but not too much, never too much.

Maybe this is why Mingi feels guilt; because in the moments before - before Yunho sprained his ankle, and Mingi had to watch as Yunho’s eyes betrayed the fear and anguish he felt, yet he still tried to conceal them with an enduring smile - Mingi had seen how Yunho looked at him. With cameras rolling, it had been _too_ _much_ , but Mingi had returned it, that same gaze, just as intense, because with Yunho, Mingi does not wish to be anyone but his true and honest self.

Perhaps, there laid Mingi’s fatal mistake - nobody bats an eye when they share such moments in private, though Mingi had forgotten where he was, if only for a single second, and Yunho was the one who paid the price for it.

See; under normal circumstances, Mingi would not be concerned any more than he usually is - he is known to be mostly carefree, simple in his pleasures, giving in his affections. They are friends, Yunho and him; best friends even, five years of friendship down and many more to go, and most people take one look at them and arrive at the exact same conclusion. 

But as Mingi said.

One misstep - and the wrong person as witness - and the entire world shatters like a snow globe falling to the ground. It needs but one push to topple over the edge.

-

Yunho is hurt, Mingi is concerned.

Because Yunho cannot fly back to South Korea in this state, not in the first two days after it happens - doomed to bed rest, he spends his days in the hotel room doing not much at all.

On their second day of shooting - everything rearranged on short notice to work without Yunho - Mingi has to be shooed out of the room by a giggling Yunho, who goes to great lengths to assure Mingi that he is _fine_ , that Mingi should go and have fun with the others already. Yunho will manage to entertain himself with the manager occasionally coming in to watch over him, to make sure he is not doing anything unreasonable - as, say, practicing torso movements of new dances by skipping on the proper steps, or actual dances performed on one foot instead of two.

It is not that Mingi thinks he is the only one with the special ability to bring a pretty smile onto Yunho’s lips - but it is just that brilliant smile which worries Mingi the most.

Something appears so odd about it that morning, as though it is not in the right place, not in the right time, as though someone took it from another dimension, twisted and turned it until it molded perfectly into the happy imitation that it is attempting to be.

Mingi’s downward spiral towards concern begins the moment he looks back one last time before he shuts the door, and time slows down, down, down, until the fall of Yunho’s face keeps on going on forever, and the sight etches itself into Mingi’s brain in the most painful manner possible, burning and searing so that even after the wound itself has healed, the scar will remain wonderfully hideous.

The scene replays in his head all day long, and Mingi has a hard time keeping up the face of the loud, boisterous person he is in front of the cameras. In between shoots, he sends Yunho texts to check up on him - under the guise of selfies with puffed cheeks and the occasional duck face, and the need for advice on which picture to post on their social media - and Yunho appears happy for the distraction and even replies with some of his own.

Both of them are well aware that none of these pictures from their private exchange are going to make it onto any type of social media - they are just for the two of them to enjoy, to draw comfort from, and Mingi supposes now more than ever Yunho would like the reminder that he is not alone.

When he returns to him in the evening, Mingi spots Yunho’s smile easily, his eyes focusing on Yunho and Yunho alone, and perhaps it is due to this hyper-focus that he does not miss how the smile fails to reach Yunho’s eyes once again, that he looks more tired than rested, and Mingi is about to ask Yunho what this means when Yunho beats him to it and demands Mingi to tell him about his day.

For a moment, Mingi considers to forego Yunho’s request, but—something drives him to let it go for tonight, just so he can make up for the time Mingi could not be by Yunho’s side. So, Mingi begins to tell a story, describes their treasure hunt all across a foreign city, hands practicing vivid movements to re-enact great parts of the adventure - the crinkle around Yunho’s eyes comes and goes, though a sense of accomplishment swells in his chest whenever Mingi manages to make Yunho laugh.

It helps him pretend Yunho is all right, after all, and he is only imagining the glittering sadness in the shimmers of Yunho’s eyes whenever the lights above their heads hit them at just the right angle.

In the end, Mingi could be projecting his own feelings of dejection and loneliness onto Yunho - those he had felt no matter how much Jongho, Hongjoong or Yunho had sat down with him after a day of solitude at their dorms. Whenever the other members were out fulfilling their schedule with healthy, functioning bodies, Mingi had been confined to his room with unbearable back pains. The occasional trip to the physical therapist, though a much-appreciated social interaction and a wondrous treatment for his spine, did not make his loneliness disappear back then.

The scary part is being left behind, always. Mingi does not want that to burden Yunho as well, since it often does not matter how good of a prognosis on recovery you receive, you will doubt and worry regardless, and being alone does not help.

So Mingi is even more concerned when, upon the arrival of the next morning, he glances at Yunho for a second and gasps at the size of the bags under his eyes, of fatigue hanging off his face like it is merely pretty decor, but Yunho brushes him off once again.

A bad dream, Yunho says, is the cause for a sleepless night, but Mingi is unsure of the verity of that explanation. He resolves to get to the bottom of the rehearsed smile as soon as the evening releases him from his duties and he can have Yunho all to himself again, determined not to allow Yunho to distract Mingi like he did the day before.

Which is a difficult feat as it is - a lot about Yunho and his little mannerisms and the beautiful features and gentle speech has the ability to distract Mingi from virtually any of his original intentions, making him forget every single word on the tip of his tongue - but Yunho is clearly as adamant about keeping his problems to himself as Mingi is about unveiling them.

Therefore, Mingi lets it go for the second time, gravely accepting that Yunho‘s dazzling smile is a tough nut to crack - and he knows this, he knows Yunho does it in the belief that it will keep Mingi from worrying too much about him and his condition, so he will no sooner spill than Mingi will tell him of his own concerns.

So, he does just that.

-

The following morning has Yunho in an even worse state of mind, Mingi knows, as he can see the exhaustion in every niche and every nook of Yunho’s body, in every sluggish movement of his limbs and the scarcely concealed slur in his voice as he thanks Mingi for helping him to the bathroom, and Mingi just cannot take this anymore.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he says, in the exact instant Yunho opens the door to their bathroom, having finished his business and morning hygiene routine. Mingi is supposed to just stand outside and wait for him - it is their arrangement; he is a helpful friend - but Yunho does not expect the reminder of what that entails. He just stands there, kind of awkwardly with his ankle raised into the air just so it barely touches the ground and he does not put any weight on it, holding onto the door frame for stability because Mingi has not offered the physical kind to him yet.

Then, Yunho’s questioning gaze turns into that godforsaken smile, and Mingi sort of wants to shake it off Yunho’s face - he probably would make the attempt, too, if Yunho was not currently compromised.

“I know,” he replies, and offers his arm to reach behind Mingi’s neck - Mingi reacts on autopilot, placing his hand on the small of Yunho’s back and grasping the hand currently snaked around his shoulders, and finally fulfills his task to guide Yunho back to bed.

“Then talk to me,” Mingi insists, when the deed is done and Yunho sits on top of the comforter, a crumpled chaos from its use, and regards him with those doe eyes Mingi usually finds very difficult to resist. Mingi lets himself drop on his own bed opposite him. “I know you’re having a hard time. And I know you’re trying to hide it from me so I don’t worry. But come on, man, I’m your best friend. I can see you're struggling, and I _am_ worried about you.”

And yes, there, he said it - now Yunho is aware that Mingi has been observing him with enough intent to uncover each layer around Yunho’s heart and managed to catch him in the act of secrecy.

But – Yunho does not answer him. The smile flies out of the window and his lips purse, his eyes grow distant and glassy and yet no tears fall, like Mingi half-expects them to. Mingi is not known for being a patient sort, though he tries really hard for Yunho - even tries not to let it show, tries not to curl his fingers around his knees in nervous anticipation, tries to fold them in his lap instead but his hands get clammy with sweat and he unfolds them again, puts them to his side to dry the sweat on the sheets.

An unmoving and still stature, Yunho presents Mingi for his fidgeting in return.

“It’s okay,” Mingi assures him, “if you don’t want to… talk about it. With me. But I know that these things are scary and I don’t want you to bottle up your feelings just because you think you always have to be in a good mood for us.”

“I—” Yunho starts, and Mingi releases a sigh of relief when he hears the low rumble of Yunho’s voice, finally setting out to share his feelings with Mingi, but then, Yunho’s sentence gets cut off as soon as it leaves his mouth - by a rather sharp knock, followed by the slide of a key card and their manager entering the room, calling Mingi to attention and reminding him that he still has to grab breakfast before they leave for today’s filming location.

And Mingi wants to refuse him, wants to resist and refrain from executing his contractual duties to stay with Yunho instead, to have that conversation that took Yunho two sleepless nights to prepare for.

But he cannot do that - Yunho is aware of that, Mingi is aware of that, and their manager is looking between the two of them with a stern yet calculating gaze, as though he is trying to figure out whether the two of them need further encouragement or a scolding for wasting everyone’s precious time.

Mingi gets up on shaky legs, assuring their manager that he will be right out with him, he just needs two minutes to get dressed. It is not a particularly hectic morning, and Mingi is already fully clothed and ready to go - something their manager sees and acknowledges with another look and a raised eyebrow, but Mingi sends him a quiet plea with his best puppy dog eyes, so he lets it go and leaves them be. He must sense that Mingi - and Yunho - need another moment, and that it is not only important but _essential_ for Mingi to have the opportunity to finish whatever it is that they have started.

Yunho’s lips curve up at the sides when Mingi’s eyes lock with his, though he does not hide their defining fatigue this time. There is a miserable edge to the expression Yunho wears on his face now, and oh, Mingi understands, but at the same time, he does not understand at all. All he knows is that he cannot allow the edge to wrap around Yunho's entire soul, engulf him and swallow him whole, but Mingi is glad he has caught the foul demon early on before it got the chance to suffocate him.

He kneels down in front of Yunho’s body - or he performs his best attempt, with the narrow gap between their beds and his long legs making the descent a bit difficult to realize, especially since he has to be mindful of Yunho’s injured ankle - and takes his hands into a gentle hold, all under Yunho‘s careful, observing eyes.

“We’ll talk tonight, yeah? Promise me this?” Mingi asks, deft fingers playing with Yunho’s within his grasp.

Mingi does not expect the tear when it falls, but he catches it nonetheless, along with Yunho’s nod and the barely-there whisper of, “Yeah.”

So Mingi stands but does not let go of Yunho’s hand, only proceeds to squeeze and hold it tighter, in spite of knowing that their small moment in time has its limits, and Mingi has to go before their manager goes to remind him of their schedule again.

It is with great reluctance that he drops Yunho’s hand eventually, and uses the sleeve of his sweater to wipe away the traces of Yunho’s tears glistening in the light. Mingi’s hand pushes a few strands of hair out of Yunho’s face before Mingi places a soft kiss on his forehead, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

If he has to spend another day away from him, he will make sure Yunho has something to treasure until he returns.

-

The hours could not go by any slower, Mingi thinks - they sit around in a cramped studio almost all day long, play funny little games one could do while staying seated, and Mingi wonders why they did not allow Yunho back for this one activity. It surely would have brightened his day to see all of his members again for longer than the few minutes in the evening, and Mingi himself would have carried Yunho anywhere they needed him to go - which probably would have been a bad idea, since Yunho is taller than him (if only by a mere centimeter) and a fully grown man with considerable muscle mass, and Mingi, while equally built and equally strong, suffers from chronic back pains and should do no more heavy lifting than need be.

But Mingi would risk it all for Yunho - he hopes he has made that clear to everyone, to Yunho most of all.

And if the days before Mingi had found it difficult to focus and act as the lovable goof and resident loud line representative of the group, this time, he can hardly remember his own name in the introduction - that is to say, he manages to navigate through the cloudy haze of his mind in the end, manages to stumble through the half-hearted recounting of his name and position, of course he does, but he takes a beat too long for it to be played off as a part of his aloofness, and they have to do a retake of the whole thing.

Mingi has to bite back a pout as Hongjoong scolds him when he messes up a second time, and yet another time after that, and thinks bitterly how everyone who will be watching is going to know who they are anyway, so what point is there to introduce themselves?

It does not help that Yunho does not reply to his text messages until midday, and by then, Mingi’s mood has already hit rock bottom. Dear God, if Mingi was not so damn professional, he would have entertained the possibility to pretend sickness himself, but he knows Yunho would not want Mingi to make foolish decisions for his sake. 

As though sensing Mingi’s brief thought of deviance, Jongho appears in front of Mingi’s face at lunchtime, shovelling ramen down his throat in eager bites, as he asks Mingi as casually as possible, “So what’s up with you today?”

“Nothing,” Mingi answers, too quick to be as casual as Jongho, but a practiced liar as much as he is tired of a conversation he has not even had yet.

“You haven’t been nagging me with kisses all week,” Jongho counters, pointing his chopsticks at Mingi in an accusatory manner. “That’s saying something. Normally that’s like, your whole gig on these shows. Getting me to scream about it and everything.”

“Sounds to me like you’re asking for it,” Mingi raises an eyebrow at him, “if you wanted some sweet _Mingi kisses_ , you could have just said so.”

Jongho just stares him dead in the eyes, noodles hanging from his lips before he pulls them into his mouth with an unceremonious slurp.

At least he has decency to swallow his food before he gives Mingi his reply, “Ah, deflection. Sounds to _me_ like you’d rather be kissing someone else, except he isn’t here, so you can’t.”

“So, I’m missing Yunho. Is that a crime?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jongho hurries to acquiesce Mingi. “Just that we all miss him and would rather have him here with us. But we’ve also got a job to do. And you don’t usually have a problem with that, even when things don’t go as planned.”

And it is true, Mingi does not - but these are not circumstances under which they normally operate, and Mingi does not have to deal with guilt every other day. He knows he could not truly have done anything to prevent Yunho’s accident, though maybe if he had not been cause for a distraction, there would not have been an accident at all.

Jongho does not need to know of Mingi’s burden, however; he is sensing the negative aura around Mingi, and is quietly, nonchalantly, expressing his concern, careful enough not to scare Mingi into a shell where he can withdraw from the outside world. Jongho is looking out for him, much like Mingi has been looking out for Yunho.

Mingi shrugs meekly, and says, “I am worried about him, is all. He hasn’t been texting me back.”

“Did something happen between you two?” Jongho asks, seemingly off-handedly as he continues to eat his lunch. Mingi himself is pushing the plastic spoon around in his empty bowl with an absent mind, but he looks up at Jongho in surprise.

“No?” Mingi wonders. Did it? “I don’t think so.”

Mingi does not believe that his attempts at reassurance and the reminder of his devotion to Yunho could be capable of momentarily dismantling a stable relationship - Mingi trusts himself not to overstep, and he is very conscious of his affections and the physical manners in which he expresses them to Yunho. He means to ease Yunho’s discomfort, not cause any more of it.

“Then I’m sure everything’s fine,” Jongho says, smiling a little. “Maybe he doesn’t feel like texting today.”

“Yeah,” Mingi confirms in a low voice, but there is no heart in it. He clears his throat and finds the place it has gone. “Yeah, sure. I just… I guess today is—today, Yunho could’ve participated, right? We’re not exactly doing anything too strenuous, sitting around asking each other questions about who’s who in the group.”

Right in this moment, Hongjoong walks into the break room, catching Mingi’s last words with a frown. “Didn’t they tell you?” Hongjoong addresses him, as he grabs himself a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “He’s at the doctor this morning. They’re trying to see if he can manage the flight home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Mingi cries with such vehement surprise, Jongho nearly chokes on his noodles. “But aren’t we supposed to fly back in a week?”

“Yes, _we_ are. Yunho isn’t,” Hongjoong replies. Mingi gapes at him. 

Surely, Yunho must have known he was due back for Korea tomorrow, why has he not told Mingi about it?

“But… why?” He whispers to himself.

Hongjoong walks closer to them, places his fingers on Mingi’s shoulder, so Mingi looks up. “It’s for the best. We’ll be here filming for another three days, and even in our free time afterwards, it won’t be enjoyable for him to just sit around in a hotel room resting without much to distract him. At home, he’ll be far more relaxed and have a better chance at healing properly, don’t you think?”

Yes, Mingi _thinks_ , but that is not the issue here - he has just been steamrolled with the information that he will be seeing Yunho even less, when he already does not get to see him as much as he would like. With time difference, it is going to be rather difficult to remain the familiar trusted companion when Yunho’s loneliness is going to fight Mingi for his rightful place by Yunho’s side.

Their talk tonight must count tenfold now, if it is the last one they will have without the hindrances of being physically apart, facing day when the other is facing night.

-

For the other members’ sake, Mingi tries to pull himself together for the remainder of their shoot - most importantly, he does not to let it show too much that he will bolt out of the room as soon as the cameras stop rolling. And as the hours go by, as Yunho continues to ignore his texts, as he somehow manages to find back to his regular self within the group, he completely forgets the time, does not pay attention to the dangerous proximity of the clock hand and the number eight.

When he does realize, he becomes antsy once again, barely manages to stay still and stand around waiting for their departure, and he watches with rising impatience as the members of the crew pack up their equipment at an agonizingly slow pace, several minutes after they have already said their thanks to the producers. He stalks out of the studio with an awkward air to his steps, almost as though he does not remember how to properly work his feet and his autopilot has ceased function. It helps a bit when San stumbles over towards him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and poking fun at Mingi for being so distracted all day, which had made it easy for San to win every one-on-one battle against him in their trivia game.

The jabs are light and friendly, just like San clinging to him with a child-like vigor, even after a whole day of shooting, and Mingi temporarily forgets his exhaustion and his anxiety - Wooyoung comes screeching at him from the other side, claiming the arm not currently in San’s hold as his own, and the two effectively stop Mingi from falling off his feet with how jittery with nerves he has become.

It is not often that Mingi is so on edge, hence why he is doing a horrible job hiding it. In moments like this, though, Mingi is very grateful to have these boys with him, to be a part of a family that cares for one another not because they have to, but because they want to.

They keep up their incessant talking at Mingi until the whole group is stuffed into the van and on their way back to the hotel, Wooyoung and San making sure to enter first so Mingi will have the chance to be out of the car first as soon as they arrive. Everyone is cared for and equipped with a snack and a bottle of water until they can grab dinner at a restaurant later, and Mingi finally feels like his lungs will allow him to breathe again, as he stares out onto the streets. 

The sun has already set, though it has not gone dark quite yet, dusk performing its wonderful, colorful magic as street lights mix into the city’s dive into night culture, and Mingi finds a weird sense of peace in that. The day is not lost, for some it has only just begun, and Mingi rediscovers the hope in his ability to make the most of his time with Yunho and of the conversation they are going to have.

“Mingi?” he then hears Seonghwa’s call from the front seat, snapping him out of his daydream. “What do you want to eat? We’re ordering in tonight, so you can have anything you like.“

Weirdly, Seonghwa makes it sound like a reward after a day of hard work - or maybe an act of kindness to console him, to brighten his mood after it has been down in the drains for a while. Mingi truly appreciates the sincere smile on Seonghwa’s face as he too is looking out for him, and just tells him, “You choose, I’m not picky.”

He thinks of Yunho, in that moment, of how the past few evenings he has spent dinner in their hotel room alone while the others grabbed food sometime between the end of their shoot and the return to their rooms, and rarely have they managed to accomplish a sense of group unity throughout that process. The ritual of eating together whenever they can, though at the very least twice a week, has been disrupted, which is why Mingi feels another sweep of guilt wounding his heart.

It does not cut deep, for the pain is a burden they all share as a group, and seek to heal with action bringing them closer when their bond weakens, even if it is just a rare occurrence.

“We thought,” Yeosang starts quietly, shrugging as he types something on his phone, “that we could all eat in your room. Before Yunho’s got to fly back tomorrow morning.”

The grin which spreads across Mingi’s face speaks volumes about his elation - that is, if the actual shout of joy he releases does not give you a clue.

-

The room Yunho shares with Mingi is packed, to say the least - eight young men with unraveling hunger in one tiny space is bound to call for disaster, though they must be mindful of Yunho’s limited mobility, and therefore argue about who sits where for a solid ten minutes - truth be told, it is mostly just between San, Wooyoung and Mingi; a heated debate who deserves the free space next to Yunho on the bed, watched with amusement from the sidelines by Yunho himself.

San, having won two rounds of rock-paper-scissors against his other two competitors, is the one who flings himself into Yunho's arms in the end, hollering for the whole world to hear that, “the roommates are reunited once more!”

Mingi pretends a pout, complaining how San must have cheated to gain this privilege - however one cheats at rock-paper-scissors, San has done it. Begrudgingly, Mingi settles into an empty chair by a table on the other side of the room. San’s rebuttal falls on deaf ears however, because Yunho’s ensuing laughter has always been louder in Mingi’s ears, always the true center of Mingi’s attentions, so he feigns heightened interest in his food to escape the group’s demand for a clever comeback to a challenge he has not even registered in the first place.

The sparkle in Yunho’s eyes travels the distance to Mingi, like it _knows_ , like _he_ knows, like Mingi cannot hide from Yunho at all. Mingi ducks his head in embarrassment, but the memory of the genuine smile on Yunho’s face - that, he files away for later, treasures it for himself, happy that they are doing this. He will gladly give up his seat if it means the stars can return to the night sky in Yunho's irises.

Dinner itself is a tumultuous affair, what with Seonghwa on the brink of a mental breakdown every time one of the others nearly spills their food on one of the clean, white sheets, and those very members ignoring the plaintive cries of their eldest. Hongjoong is both making fun of Seonghwa and trying to appease him by engaging in playful discussions with him, and Mingi faintly wonders on whose side their leader is, if his methods of distraction only involve further teasing.

Once their bellies are filled and the warm feeling of being sated grants them a serene disposition, fatigue settles over them like a thick blanket, and their conversations turn slow, quiet, and soon, one after the other, they excuse themselves to prepare for the night in their own rooms. All of them say their goodbyes to Yunho, some choosing a more heart wrenching approach than others - San is really going to miss his roommate, okay, _leave him alone_ \- and wish him a good flight, all things considered.

There is dread, coming out from the shadows, when even Hongjoong takes his leave in the end. Mingi has forgotten about it in those hours he spent with all seven of them - as did Yunho, by the looks of it, because his gaze on Mingi is uncertain, a little lost, too, and their morning together seems so far away now, as the next one comes nearer unbidden

Mingi feels—Mingi feels strange, after today. He has never questioned his actions around Yunho, not unless Yunho had been uncomfortable with him in any way - but Yunho had not appeared uncomfortable that morning, only surprised, perhaps a bit shocked, though not—not frightened. Not like he has to fear Mingi. So.

Why now, all of a sudden?

“How…” Mingi clears his throat, not liking the way his voice sounds. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Yunho answers him, “Or, better, really. It helped that the others were here. That we were all together tonight.”

Mingi echoes, “Good.”

He sits down on his bed, and a wave of déjà-vu overcomes him; the two of them, sitting across from one another, awkward and unfamiliar - like morning, like evening, Mingi supposes?

“Why didn’t you text me back today?” Mingi asks, “I mean you’re not like, obligated to reply to my texts, of course, but—”

“Sorry,” Yunho says, “Sorry, I wasn’t… in the mood, I guess. Wasn’t the greatest visit at the doctor today, you know.”

Mingi knows. Yunho has told them all about it - his foot is healing well, so much for the positive news, but Yunho will have to miss out on dancing and too much strenuous activity for at least another two weeks, just to be sure that it will not get worse before it gets better. Mingi himself remembers that the prospect of being robbed of your greatest passion, of your second nature, combined with watching everyone else performing it just fine, is not a pleasant one.

“I get it,” Mingi says.

They are silent after that, for a little while.

It gives Mingi the chance to come to the realization that, really, he feels kind of gross at the moment. He has not changed into comfortable clothes yet, has not had the chance to, and most of all, he craves a hot shower to rid himself of the nervous sweat.

It is fine, of course. He can shower in the morning.

“Mingi?” Yunho says, breaking the silence then, and Mingi’s spine straightens unconsciously as he hears Yunho say his name. “I know I… said that we would talk tonight.”

Oh, no. Mingi does not like Yunho’s tone. All gentle and apologetic, spelling it all out without Yunho having gotten so far.

“But I’m kind of beat, and the manager is going to wake me up at six for the airport…”

No, Mingi does not like it, at all.

“So, if you don’t mind, I’d rather sleep as long as I still can.”

Which is to say, not much, if Mingi is allowed to draw a conclusion from the very telling data of the past two days. Mingi does not speak up, though, despite thinking that he probably should. His eyebrows draw together, the frown deep and unforgiving, but Yunho bows his head as though ashamed and pretends not to notice.

Part of Mingi is yelling at him to insist on having this conversation - it is so vital to him, to make sure that Yunho is good to go back to Korea alone, that he will have enough reassurance that the others will be there with him soon, will wait for his recovery with patience and no complaints. Yunho may be reasonable, Yunho may trust his gut, but intrusive thoughts have a habit of breaking even the strongest of resolves, so Mingi assumes even Yunho is susceptible to them.

On the other hand, Yunho is—God, Yunho is clearly not okay, Mingi knows, but Mingi wants to do nothing less than to force Yunho to talk when he so very clearly wishes not to.

So, with a heavy heart, Mingi nods, accepting, trying to smile but grimacing horribly instead, “Yeah, sure, that’s—fine. I understand.”

Yunho regards him with a pained expression, and he opens his mouth to say something but only hot air comes out. Mingi takes this as his cue to get up, because if he goes to escape and leave Yunho some space, he might as well take that shower. And Yunho does not stop him, tired as he must be, undoubtedly more eager to dive into short but needed slumber than engaging in this conversation with Mingi.

Mingi tries very hard not to be resentful. He has no right to be. This is not about him, and ultimately, the choice is not in his hands.

Nevertheless, as much effort as he had put into the attempt, his reflection in the bathroom mirror stares at him with a livid fire in his eyes, and it comes crashing down on Mingi that this is what Yunho saw when his speech had forsaken him. He just observes the lines of his face, wants to challenge what he sees and fight against it, but fire does not always do well against fire, so he chooses to distinguish it the old-fashioned way.

Mingi lets the hot water run over his face for minutes without doing much else, stretches time as he pleases, acts like he possesses such power, and sometime between then and now, he shudders through a breath that feels like it shakes him to his very core, as though the fumes of the flame inside him have cleared out, and his lungs finally rediscover their true life's blood in the thick humidity of the shower cubicle.

It is scorching hot, the air he breathes, yet refreshing more than anything else.

The shower helps him get a grip, just right. It has the sour edges around his mouth soften into a resigned pout, and Mingi thinks that the least he can do is respect Yunho’s wishes, as much as he disagrees with them, before he dresses into his sleeping clothes and steps out of the bathroom.

The lights are off, darkness almost flashing Mingi with how abruptly it greets him, and Mingi catches Yunho’s body lying underneath the covers, back turned towards him. The figure stirs upon Mingi’s return, looking over his shoulder then. Mingi looks right back, a silent question in his eyes which Yunho answers by sitting up, luring him in with his gaze, because it says that Yunho is not done talking after all.

“Can you—can you come here, please?” Comes his gentle voice, no louder than a mumble, and who is Mingi to deny such a request? He rakes his fingers through his damp hair, lips forming an involuntary smile, minuscule and barely visible in the dark, he imagines, but it is there. Mingi finds himself in front of Yunho, like he asked, in the next instant, on top of the sheets and a little cold - and Yunho is just watching him, so intensely that it makes Mingi’s skin crawl even further, and he should be used to it by now, but he did not expect it to happen tonight. It catches him off guard for its sudden nature, and Mingi is, and fears he always shall be, at Jeong Yunho’s mercy.

Yunho’s lips are soft when he places them on top of Mingi’s, briefly and not for the first time, though for the first time in a long, long while, and Mingi is confused at the sudden display of Yunho’s affection. There is a hand holding him by the nape of his neck as it draws him closer, not to deepen the kiss, but for the sake of their proximity alone, and Mingi closes his eyes because Yunho does, allowing the action to speak for itself.

Their foreheads touch when their lips do not, and Mingi’s eyelids flutter open when Yunho’s nose nudges at his.

Mingi’s back hurts, with the way he is sitting on his calves as his neck bends forward to accommodate their position and chase Yunho’s warmth, and he reckons that Yunho is not much better off, legs stretched out as he turns his torso to Mingi.

But all of that, Mingi forgets, as Yunho whispers, “I missed doing that.”

And Mingi did, too, unable to remember why they had ever stopped.

“Yeah, me too,” Mingi replies, equally as quiet for he would do most anything not to let this moment shatter. He is perplexed, however, because the last time they had portrayed their love through a kiss was - well before debut, well before sharp eyes and sharp tongues examining their every move. Privacy never granted them enough comfort again to return to their undefined state of affairs.

“Why now?” Mingi ends up asking - he must, with how little they have been communicating. This is too important to be swallowed whole by the night.

“I’m scared,” Yunho admits, voice tight and low, and Mingi hears every bit of his anxiety even in such small of an utterance. “I—sorry, I can’t talk, I really can’t, but… I need you. Please. I need you, Mingi.”

“How?” Mingi murmurs, carding a hand through Yunho’s hair to soothe him, pulse quickening. “How do you need me?”

“Just… hold me?” 

“Okay.” Mingi says, kissing Yunho’s head. “But I don’t wanna hurt you…”

“You won’t,” Yunho replies. The amount of trust Yunho has in Mingi is exhilarating in a sense, built strong and steadfast over the years, but trust alone will not shield Yunho’s foot from possible accidental kicks in the night. So, short of any other solution to come up with on the spot, Mingi crafts a pillow wall between their legs, and asks Yunho to put another between his feet, so Mingi feels a little better with Yunho sleeping on his side.

Once Mingi is satisfied with the structural layout of the bed, he lies down and invites Yunho into his arms.

Admittedly, it is—well, awkward, for a solid minute or so, as they try and squirm their way into a comfortable position. 

But Mingi does not mind. In the end, Yunho’s head finds itself onto his chest, his hand holding onto Mingi’s, clasped together on top of his stomach, and Mingi feels Yunho drift off to sleep in a matter of seconds, or so it seems.

Mingi follows him into dreamland soon after.

-

When Mingi wakes up alone, disoriented as he is, he does not realize there is supposed to be a warm body next to him, not at first. There is not, however, and he quickly concludes it is what had awoken him.

He reckons that morning has come quicker than he anticipated, feeling as though he has barely slept a wink, but he only registers a grey darkness that does not speak of morning at all, but of the inconspicuous hour before sunrise, a time they rarely experience even when they do decide to stay up late. It feels like forbidden territory, to be awake when the sun is busy preparing its ascend, though Mingi does not concern himself with the star in their sky when the light of his own life is missing from the bed.

One look at the time - four thirty in the morning, barely - and Mingi’s sneaking suspicions have been confirmed - Yunho is not awake because he has to be.

The bathroom is empty, and Yunho is in no condition to have gotten any further than that, so the only option left is the small balcony attached to their room. And sure enough…

Yunho has stolen one of Mingi’s hoodies - the one he had worn the day before, the one Mingi could not find just now - to keep himself warm in those early hours of this spring morning, but Mingi cannot imagine it being much of a help against the biting cold. It is not unbearable, he supposes, but definitely not exactly cozy, either.

“What are you doing out here?” Mingi asks, deep voice rough from sleep. He tries to sound stern, but all which comes out of his mouth is a tired resignation.

Yunho must have expected him, if his complete nonchalance about Mingi’s sudden appearance is anything to go by, and answers without looking at Mingi.

“I seriously needed some fresh air,” he provides, leaning against the railing. Mingi is by his side in an instant. “And the air in the morning is so… untouched. It’s nice.”

Yunho smiles at him - a real smile, not the pretense of it - and Mingi finally feels as though he is able to smile back properly, somewhat relieved to find that the curve of Yunho’s lips reaches past the lower half of his face, and covers the bags under Yunho’s eyes with cheerfulness - expressed mostly in the remains of fatigue, yet no less significant.

But Mingi catches Yunho shivering, and he tightens his hold around his waist, then presses him closer to rub his arms and create some warmth, in spite of knowing that he is no more powerful than the freezing winds currently plaguing them.

“We should get you inside,” Mingi says. Yunho ignores him, so Mingi insists. “Come on, Yunho, we can still catch some sleep.”

“No, it’s okay,” Yunho assures him, and weirdly, Mingi believes him. “I slept wonderfully, thanks to you. We should’ve done this two days ago.”

They should have done many things two days ago, Mingi thinks bitterly - talk, for one, but Mingi is unsure if he can bring it up now, or even if he should. However, it appears he does not have to

“Help me inside?” Yunho says, eyes twinkling, and Mingi huffs a small laugh as he happily obliges Yunho‘s wish. The thought that Yunho stumbled his way onto the balcony without Mingi to grab onto does not sit well with him, but he does not dwell on it for too long. Yunho seems so at peace, there is no need for Mingi to nag.

“Thank you,” Yunho says when they reach the bed once again, resuming their horizontal position from before. They stay that way for a while, and Mingi cannot stop his eyes from falling shut in the remaining coziness of the room. It takes a lot for Mingi to stay awake, especially as Yunho starts to curl his fingers into his hair and massage his scalp, the gesture soothing as it is intimate, and it nearly lulls him back to sleep.

But then, unexpectedly, Yunho murmurs, “You know what helped?” Mingi hums, because he does not know, and he wants Yunho to keep on talking to him, maybe tell him a bedtime story with that placid voice of his. Yunho’s hand wanders to Mingi’s chest, focusing on its center where Mingi’s heart sits, and Yunho speaks the soft admittance of, “this,” directly into Mingi’s ear.

 _This_. Mingi’s heartbeat.

Of course.

“It reminded me,” Yunho continues, even as Mingi turns his head to look at him with wide eyes, “of when we used to do this every other day. _Before_ , I mean. Knowing you were there, hearing your heartbeat… it brought me back down to earth. No matter how lost I was, no matter how far above the ground I was stumbling around.”

Mingi chokes, just a tiny bit. “I’m glad,” he croaks out. “I’m glad I can do that for you.”

“Me too,” Yunho says. “Can I tell you something else?”

“Anything,” Mingi promises, breathless in anticipation.

“I have been meaning to ask you something. A very important question, as a matter of fact,” Yunho begins. “For months, I weighed the pros and cons, observed from the sidelines, but—it wasn’t until this week that I came to the decision that it couldn’t wait any longer.

“An unforeseen… _problem_ , however, arose,” Yunho speaks on gravely, gesturing in the general direction of his foot. “Which… is not a _problem_ problem, as much as it isn’t great either - like, God, it sucks so much. But—

“Mingi,” Yunho takes a deep breath. His fingertips trail across Mingi’s jawline, and Mingi closes his eyes at the wonderful sensation. “I love you.”

Mingi gulps, eyes shooting open again. 

“Don’t act so surprised, Mingi,” Yunho grins dumbly, flashing his teeth. “I know you know. Just like I know you feel the same.”

Mingi does - he has never once in his life intended to hide it. “I do,” he confirms, leaving incredibly tender strokes on Yunho’s arm in return for his own generous touch.

Still, it is another thing to hear Yunho say the infamous words aloud to him at near five in the morning, when it feels like they are the only two people in the world and Mingi believes everything might as well be a beautiful dream. Yunho’s hand does not cease its caresses, to show Mingi that their togetherness can be anything, though certainly not just a dream. “I meant to ask you… or, well, I meant to discuss our relationship. I knew I could keep loving you the way I already was, that it would suffice to just be with you, but I needed to find out if—if we could be on the same page. Officially. Exclusively.”

Yunho lets the suggestion sit by itself for a moment, watching every minuscule change in Mingi’s expression, every twitch of a muscle, every surprised blink of an eye. Mingi does not know how much he gives him - he only hopes it does not provide a room for doubts.

“And as I said, I considered it for months, wanted to come up with the best way to bring it up with you without pressuring you too much,” Yunho goes on, a fearless man on his own against his troubles. “This week. On our first day of shooting. Before I sprained my ankle…”

“I was looking at you,” Mingi whispers, as he recalls the moment in his memories, half in horror, half in memorization. “You were looking at me.”

Yunho nods, “It was in that moment that I discovered—it wasn’t a matter of _if_ or _how_ I was going to ask you. It was a matter of _when_.”

“You hurt your ankle because of me,” Mingi cuts in, swallowing heavily. Yunho frowns, but it does not give Mingi the incentive to stop. “I—I thought I had finally crossed the line. And you had to pay for my mistake.”

Yunho’s eyes are glassy, then, and his voice trembles when he speaks, “I thought that at first, too.”

“You did?” Mingi whispers, heart falling to the pit of his stomach. A swell of sickness overcomes him, and he opens his mouth to give his deepest apologies. 

But Yunho does not want them. “I didn’t think that you were responsible, Mingi. That’s ridiculous. You couldn’t—Mingi, my love, you couldn’t hurt a fly, you would never do anything that could have the potential to harm someone. What happened to me was a stupid accident.

But… it did cross my mind that—it was a bad omen. I mean, _fuck_ , the moment I decide I want to tell you that I love you, I sprain my ankle? I don’t usually believe in these things, but it felt like a divine intervention. A sign from the universe that I shouldn’t do it.”

Yunho pauses for a moment, shifting closer - as humanly possible, at least - so that he is but a hair’s width away from Mingi’s face. “That’s—that’s what these past few days have been about, actually,” he admits, so quiet Mingi has to perk up his ears. “I questioned my decision again. I questioned the possibility of us, if it was a good idea. And I didn’t think you would notice, since I’d been hiding it for so long before, what difference would a few more days make?” Yunho proceeds to smile in relief. “But you noticed. Thank _goodness_ you noticed.”

What Mingi truly took note of, though, was not Yunho’s turmoil over their relationship - it would have been his last guess, if one at all. “I didn’t,” Mingi thus feels the need to correct, “I believed you were upset over your injury.”

“In a way, I was,” Yunho hurries to say, “Still am. It put me into such a state of distress that I couldn’t sleep properly. And the worst part was dealing with it on my own, being in my head all the time. Which _you_ picked up on. And you immediately took the appropriate measures to help me out of it.”

Mingi laughs at that, “ _Appropriate Measures_ … You make it sound like I have to follow a protocol when it comes to taking care of you.”

“Well, you certainly know just how to do it…” Yunho replies, undeterred by Mingi’s subtle attempts of a distraction. He sighs, content as a lamb, nosing at Mingi’s cheek. “Because when you reminded me that I could always talk to you, and when you stayed with me even when I couldn’t… it felt right. So _right_. I remembered what it was like to be safe with you. I remembered that you are as protective of me as I am of you.”

Yunho pulls back, just a fraction, and meets Mingi’s eyes with a blinding smile. “And then I woke up in your arms. At first, I thought it might be a dream, like one I so often had. Then I realized that it wasn’t and… that it could be like this more often. That _us_ , if you want there to be an _us_ , could be a good idea.”

 _Us_.

 _Them_.

Yunho allows the words to give an echo so hopeful, so lovely, easy and attainable, and it sweeps Mingi away from his concerns, from Yunho’s injury, closer to the person he loves instead. Suddenly, there are no obstacles holding them back, no barrier between them, and Mingi thinks that, perhaps, Yunho is right.

 _They_ are a good idea.

“I would love there to be an _us_ , Yunho,” Mingi tells him, bursting at the seams with excitement, but he is not prepared for Yunho to all but explode with it. Mingi - humble as he is - can be described as an expert when it comes to all kinds of screams, is very familiar with thousands of variations on joyful exclamations - but the mixture of bubbly laughter and an Wooyoung-esque screech which comes out of Yunho’s mouth is a novelty to him, one that he welcomes with open arms.

Yunho attacks his jaw with kisses, then, and Mingi can feel the enormous grin against his skin, stretching across of Yunho’s face, and it tickles, just so. Mingi cannot help but join into the laughter.

Yunho peppers his entire face with smooches, to the point where Mingi feels mildly gross but cannot stop laughing, and Yunho plants a sweet kiss - that does not taste sweet at all, not while morning breath makes an annoying appearance - on his lips, which is a mess in and of itself, since making out and uncontrollable giggling are not two activities that combine well.

“Stop,” he protests, when Yunho dives in for even more, and Mingi would not even mind if he did not think Yunho was far too enthusiastic for someone who should not move as much as he does. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he warns, only half-joking, attempting to conceal his actual concern as best as he can, even as Yunho rolls his eyes at him.

“Let me just…” he starts, guiding Yunho to lie down on his back as Mingi hovers above him, smiling down at him gently when Yunho pouts like a brat. “Don’t look at me like I just took away your favorite toy.”

“Well, maybe you have,” Yunho challenges him cheekily, quirking an eyebrow, and Mingi momentarily chokes on his spit. Nothing could have prepared Mingi for the force which would hit him when the full potential of a flirty Yunho is unleashed - on him, of all people - and he sputters through a few select sounds before giving up on speaking altogether. He sits up, covers his face with his hands, and groans, long and suffering, but it is all just a pointless ruse to hide the warmth gathering in his cheeks.

Considering Yunho did not even have to do much to fluster Mingi, his hot cheeks have no intention of cooling down anytime soon, not with embarrassment adding onto the pile of reasons why Mingi has been transformed into a big, round cherry.

“You know,” he wails miserably, “I was going to be all sweet on you, tell you that I love you and all, but now I don’t know if you deserve that anymore.”

At that, he feels Yunho sit up as well, his hands atop of Mingi’s trying to pry them off his face as softly as he can manage while Mingi’s putting up a resistance. When he breaches through the barrier in the end, after much fight and even more coaxing, Yunho smiles at him with so much love, Mingi is reduced to putty, pretty much.

“Please, do tell me,” Yunho demands, voice brittle with laughter, “how sweet on me you can be.”

Mingi should not be surprised to find the genuine request on the tip of Yunho’s tongue; yet, when the expectant gaze pulls Mingi closer once more, asks him to bear his deepest, his most honest feelings, Mingi needs to take another second to collect his thoughts and not fall apart any further underneath Yunho’s adoring stare.

“It’s all right, I won’t tease,” Yunho promises, giving him a kiss to seal the deal, and all the tension leaves Mingi’s body in one drawn-out sigh. They do not stop at that one kiss, either, but rather get lost in one another for several minutes, breathing as one as their lips connect again and again.

“Are you bribing me with kisses, Jeong Yunho?” Mingi asks, growing bold to match Yunho’s intensity, and Yunho chuckles in response, regarding him curiously, “Is it working?”

Mingi pretends to mull the question over in his head, humming and tapping his finger against his chin in faux-thoughtfulness. 

“Perhaps,” Mingi replies eventually, and a grin spreads on his face. “I might need some further convincing, to be sure.”

Yunho shakes his head in amusement, but he gives him a kiss on the cheek, and asks, “Is that enough?”

“Mhmh,” Mingi makes a sound of assent. “For now,” he decides, though he craves for more the instant he says it. Until now, it had been so easy to forget that they are nearing six o’clock, that their time is running out slowly but surely, and that Mingi had better give his confession now before he loses the precious opportunity when their manager comes to collect Yunho and bring him back home.

Yunho appears to sense the shift to a more serious mood, inclining his head in question, and Mingi finds it endlessly adorable.

“God, I love you,” he says, and it is like a dam breaks inside of him. “I love you so much, Yunho. And I wish I was able to show it to you in the way I need to, for the entire world to see. Everyone thinks they know how much I already love you, but they don’t know shit. They don’t know what a good guy you are, and that you deserve goodness in return, they don’t know how lucky I am that someone like you has chosen to love someone like me.”

“I hope that, by _someone like you_ , you mean the brightest, handsomest and most creative man on earth, Song Mingi, right?” Yunho whispers, “Because that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, and I love him just as much as he loves me.”

“Boyfriend?” Mingi repeats, dumbstruck, as though this is the most shocking outcome of tonight.

“Yeah,” Yunho says. “Unless you don’t…”

“Of course I do,” Mingi says, holding Yunho’s face in his palms to press a light kiss onto the crown of his head. “I don’t want to let you go now, is that selfish?” 

“No,” Yunho breathes, letting his head fall on top of Mingi’s shoulder, clinging onto him for as long as he still can. “I don’t wanna go, either.”

 _God_.

They really should have done this two days ago, not one hour before Yunho has to leave.

The alarm on Yunho’s phone goes off, shrill and unwelcoming in the warm silence between their bodies, and Mingi has to correct himself; _fifteen_ _minutes_ before Yunho has to leave.

Mingi knows that he has to be the one to release Yunho from his arms, no matter how reluctant he may be to do so. He has also promised to make sure Yunho is ready by the time their manager knocks at the door, so he gets up from the bed, biting his lip as his hands slip out of Yunho’s.

Yunho watches Mingi move around the room before he vanishes into the bathroom, dressing himself, while Mingi does his best not to start crying on the spot as he packs his backpack with some last-minute items – toiletries, chargers, Mingi’s coziest hoodie; the essentials, really. Mingi packs the bottle of coke he had ordered for Yunho yesterday (and promptly forgotten to give it to him), as a treat.

Six days. Six days until they can see each other again – they will survive that long, Mingi is sure. If their relationship is but a fraction as strong as their friendship always has been, Mingi knows there is no reason to have doubts.

When the knock sounds, Yunho may look ready to the outsider’s view, but here, with Mingi’s arms around his neck, he does not appear ready in the slightest. “I’ll miss you,” he murmurs against Mingi’s lips, luring that tear out of Mingi, after all. “Don’t cry, you big baby, you’ll make me cry, too.”

“Don’t call me a baby,” Mingi cries in defense, but it is powerless with a voice so unsteady, though it makes Yunho laugh, so he does not mind. “Now go, before he’ll have to come in and see what a mess I am.”

“My beautiful mess,” Yunho reminds him, pecking his lips one last time before he extricates himself from Mingi. In the doorway, Yunho looks back at him, smiling true and sincere, just how Mingi loves it and calls, “See you in six days.”

Mingi cannot wait.

**Author's Note:**

> 👁👄👁 if you liked it 👁👄👁 tell me please 👁👄👁 yungi in a hurt/comfort setting are very difficult 👁👄👁
> 
> don't mind the ending btw i still have to revisit and polish it lmao
> 
> also yungi are officially now a pita ship bc i wrote hurt/comfort for them. isn't that nice? gotta keep up tradition  
> seriously tho this is a WEIRD MESS which i have mixed feelings about, so if you liked it, consider letting me know asjhdhas
> 
> [now with a lovely complementary edit!](https://twitter.com/sunkissedsungie/status/1257729583899648000)
> 
> [and a wonderful fanart by @pinkycelly!](https://twitter.com/pinkycelly/status/1295485252027256833?s=20)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/woojinblooms) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/woojinblooms)


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